From January 2

I want to be

Alone in

My feelings

In this place

I am all right

The feelings I feel

Are not up for judgement

The calm and closeness

The sigh and the whisper

Where it is is where it lands

Hope and the dying hand

I seek your face

And your face I do seek

Light is shining

In thick butter gleams

Hold to me

And do not forget

Where it is where it lands

The beauty of a cast of light

Don’t forget

This might be night

But it doesn’t stay this way

Forever, and even in night

There are those stars

And the moon every twenty eight days

More or less.

Fear of Writing

When I think of writing, I think of fear. From the moment when I was able to write as more than just an exercise in penmanship, writing became fear.

No. That isn’t quite accurate.

It was the moment when someone else saw what I wrote outside of an exercise in penmanship: That was when writing became fear.

So I am, so many years after that moment, starting a blog of writing. It is an attempt to overcome the fear by “going public”. It is giving into the fear by doing it anonymously.

One can’t conquer everything all at once.